Ella stood with Erik, big mountain-like Erik, greeting people inside the doors of the pool.
They kept the doors open so the glass windows wouldn’t get steamy, but the warmth coming off the water kept the humidity high.
Until the pool was officially open, the kids had all been told they weren’t allowed to jump in. Irene had put up ‘lane closed’ signs, and Sally Huxtable and Loraine McCormack prowled the pool deck, reminding any brazen ten-year-olds (we’re looking at you, Ollie Kinworth and Sam Brecker) they weren’t allowed to jump in till the ribbon got cut.
Ella shook hands until her hands hurt and smiled till her mouth ached. Everyone wanted a piece of her and Erik.
She’d seen Jake briefly, before he’d had to go sort out something to do with the sponsor signage involving a ladder and rope. Irene would have done it herself, she said, except for her dodgy knee.
Ella waved at Helen Nillson, entering with Mick and his wife and family. The kids had towels around their necks and rash vests, all ready to leap in.
‘No swimming,’ Irene announced, moving surprisingly fast for a woman two weeks off a knee replacement. ‘Not until after the speeches.’
‘Speeches? Mhmmm,’ said Erik. He’d never liked speeches.
‘Is he here yet?’ Ella heard Helen ask Irene. Loraine and Sally joined the huddle, and Irene glanced nervously about, eyes darting, before whispering something to Helen that Ella didn’t catch.
What mischief were the old biddies up to now?
‘We’ll start moving everyone out soon, Ella,’ Sally called to her. ‘Shire President Calder wants to do the main presentation outside, where everyone can see the sponsorship signage.’
‘Okay,’ Ella said, glad to get out of the too-warm air and too-big crowd in a too-small space.
Jake found her outside soon after. He passed a takeaway coffee to Erik and pressed a freezing cold Coke can into Ella’s hand.
‘Thanks,’ she said, taking a sip and feeling it hit. Terrible for you, this stuff, but so good as a pick-me-up after a big night. And last night had been huge. It must have been midnight before Jake dropped her at the pool to pick up her car and both of them had driven home.
How she’d hated watching Jake’s taillights disappear without her.
‘It’s a good crowd,’ Jake said, looking about.
At that moment, there was a stir through the Chalk Hill townsfolk that had Ella wondering if another kid might have fallen off the pony. Perhaps Shire President Calder had gone for a cheeky bounce on the bouncy castle or something equally death-defying. She wouldn’t put it past Irene to have organised sky-divers to land on the bowling green.
Ella had studiously stayed right out of the event organising for today. Heaven forbid she get in the way of Irene, Loraine, Sally and Helen. Those ladies were a force.
Instead, she and Erik had concentrated on lending their voices to the fundraising efforts, petitions, council motions and round after round of grant applications. Together, they’d devised swimming lesson plans and routines, and Ella had completed her refresher for the AustSwim course.
Erik puffed himself to his full height, always an impressive sight, peering over and above the crowd to see what the fuss was about.
‘Ella, where is Sam?’ Erik said, slowly, evenly, but with an edge that made Ella’s nerves scream.
‘He was with Ollie. Why?’
Jake must have felt the tension too. ‘What’s going on?’
‘This is not good,’ Erik said.
Ella touched Erik’s arm. ‘What, Erik? What’s going on? You’re scaring me.’
Then Irene’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker. ‘Testing, testing. Can you hear me up the back?’
The crowd chorused, ‘Ye-es.’
‘Who’s seen Ella and Erik? Are they here?’ Irene said.
Erik leaned his face low to speak urgently to Ella and Jake. ‘Marshall. He is here with his cameras and vans.’
‘Marshall’s here?’ Ella said, stunned.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to start today’s official proceedings, if you could all gather around.’
People shuffled forward. Ella, Erik and Jake got carried along in the crush.
‘Thank you. Ella Davenport and Erik Brecker? Can you please come forward?’
Friendly voices called ‘they’re back here,’ and eager hands jostled them forward. The crowd parted, opening a clear line of sight to Irene, who stood on the stone steps leading up to the pool’s entrance.
That’s when Ella saw Marshall Wentworth, in the flesh, for the first time in more than ten years, and her heart started bashing as fast as the pony’s trotting hooves.
‘Here she comes. Would you all please put your hands together for a lady who has done more to get this pool filled with water than anyone else in Chalk Hill: Ella Davenport of Begg & Robertson Real Estate; and one of the most recognised swimming coaches anywhere in Australia, Erik Brecker!’
Applause rose, then swelled like a Mexican wave.
Irene’s voice again, not quite so certain of itself. ‘Oh, and you’re coming too, Jake? Okay, and Jake Honeychurch, one of our many generous sponsors, looks like he’s coming too.’
Ella’s hand fluttered behind her body, searching for Jake, and his fingers closed around hers and lent strength to her wobbly legs.
She couldn’t blame a pair of heels today, but she could blame Marshall Wentworth.
Jake didn’t come up to the stage, but he stood with arms crossed, just metres away, and she was so very glad to have him there.
Woodenly, Ella turned to face the crowd.
She’d forgotten how tall Marshall was. He was almost as tall as Erik.
He’d be thirty now, she thought, trying to work out the maths in her head. He’d kept in shape, even if he wasn’t ripped like when he’d been one of the fastest swimmers in the world.
‘Hello, Ella. Hi, Erik. It’s been a long time,’ Marshall greeted them, flashing white teeth in a tan way out of place in a Chalk Hill winter. His gaze raked Ella from head to toe and he said, ‘You’re looking well.’
She wanted to claw his eyes out.
Irene’s voice rattled loud through
